


Dishadow

by Alahnore



Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alahnore/pseuds/Alahnore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This place is dark and cold. This place is lonely and freezing. I want to erase this lead-colored sky in which I’m trapped in."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dishadow

**Author's Note:**

> Post-main arc, but not post-L&L. Lyrics are from EXEC_DISHADOW_includes.Ex_VANISLAND/. Richard practice. Richard x Asbel is very faint and only if you want to see it that way.
> 
> Characters and settings belong to Namco. Lyrics belong to GUST.

_Now, go to sleep,_   
_And let these wings of yours to finally be put to rest._   


The sky was blue only once in a while.

He knows almost every day it was really blue, and the wind blows so gently and serenely. Outside with the big, blue sky where freedom rides the wind like a stallion was a simple contentment that he only experienced a few days a month in his childhood. So, for him, the sky was normally a dark grey; cold and hard stone instead of the boundless, warm sky of the outside.

Outside where people sometimes treat him like something that was too amazing to be human so they have to treat him differently; outside where people would capitalize on the unfortunate circumstance of his birth. The big blue sky shelters its own dangers, as did the lead-colored one he oft had over his head, the shadows lurking with those who want his life.

Richard can’t relax. Even as a child, he has to look over his shoulder; he has to stare at his food and memorize the normal color of it, the normal texture and aroma. He has to scrutinize the glassy surfaces of his drinks for oily glazes, or observe the lip of his goblets for powders or errantly colored liquids. He has to cover his windows with bolts of steel and heavy curtains that took effort to move, and his bed can never not be tucked to a corner away from windows and the door. He can never sleep on his back or his stomach or the side that put his back to any opening. Under his pillow was one dagger; the sheet held another behind him. There was even a short sword under his bed, all within easy reach.

It was amazing he could sleep at all.

Even as he grows into a teenager, Richard continues to look over his shoulder, stare down hands before shaking them, and wear manageable links of chainmail under his clothing. It was coming to the point Richard begins to quietly, subtly, fear his own father. Because if uncles were willing to kill family, what stops men like the King?

Nothing, of course; and that’s what left Richard terrified throughout his childhood. If family were willing to kill him, of course those outside of it were perfectly capable and willing of it.

Richard runs to his little secret spot that everyone knows he goes to but don’t bother him. He locks and bolts the door after he checks every corner and covered area. He wraps himself in a blanket with his basket of apples and books, as he normally did. But sometimes Richard doesn’t eat apples until he pops. Sometimes Richard doesn’t read silly adventure stories and imagines the vivid blue sky he sees once in a while.

Sometimes, Richard tucks himself into his corner, hidden in his blanket and he cries bitter, unhappy tears.

There are good days, of course. Richard recalls some fond days when he forgets he is always in danger and tosses aside his irrational fear of his doting father. Most often those days were when he was able to go outside, to sit on his hill, to see the blue sky and adore it for all its boundless warmth and wonders. After all, everyone lives under the same sky—Asbel lives under the same sky and with thoughts like that, Richard doesn’t feel as far away from him or as alone.

And one day, Richard knows, Asbel will stand next to him, blue or grey sky. That was his hope and Richard holds it close, even when he cries in his corner. Because as there are good days… there are bad ones. Many times Richard cries and he wishes Asbel will come climbing through a window with that carefree, innocent smile of his and whisk him away from what hurts him. Beat away what pains him. Save him all over again.

Richard has many letters tucked away from those days, those seven years. He only sends one, tries to visit once, but there was no Asbel, no answer back. But when he hears of Asbel being in the Knight Academy, being so close in reality, he almost doesn’t mind. Sometimes, if Richard looks out the windows of his carriers and transports, he can see the knight trainees. Sometimes he swears he see a familiar dark red. He pretends he did see it… because those momentary flashes of hope and happiness were the few things keeping Richard from going mad.

And then Cedric strikes.

_This place is dark and cold. This place is lonely and freezing._   
_I want to erase this lead-colored sky in which I'm shut in._   


The prince streaks through the castle, the image of his father’s corpse burning in his mind. His sweet, loving father—one he feared to an extent, but still loved with all of his heart. The king that Windor adored, lying in a pool of his own blood and his eyes still wide with shock and pain. Knights that Richard once felt safe around hooting and cheering as if they had slaughtered a bountiful pig for harvest; so many bodies, so much blood… all for what? Richard really isn’t sure, even as he runs through the secret passage, his breath and footsteps echoing. More footsteps are behind him, chasing, and Richard feels his chest tighten. It’s hard to breathe. He can’t breathe.

And yet even as he stumbles through the catacombs, heading for the place he thinks he could be safe, there is only one plea in Richard’s mind. His mind, his heart, begs for Asbel. Because if he was going to die, he wants to die after seeing his one true friend just one more time.

If there exist a god, it both loves and mocks him. Because at the moment Richard felt like giving up, he feels the warm, kind hand on his back. Seven years and he would never forget that touch. His prayer was delivered in the form of eyes that reminded him so much of the free sky he only saw once in a while.

Asbel saves him again. Over and over Asbel saves him and he doesn’t realize it. Richard tries to hold onto that, tries to hold onto him. But he feels himself slipping each time _he_ comes out. Richard sees the worry in those little skies, sees the confusion, and he wants to erase all of it. Be warm, be bright, better than the real sky, better than the stone one! But Richard is powerless. He can only watch as he succumbs to what he thought was an understanding soul. Watch Asbel suffer because of him.

_Ah, is the darkness of hell what closes off the sky?_   
_Let that sky of rocks fall down! Stain the sins and catastrophes!_   
_Destroy, destroy everything!_   
_I'll never return to the inside of that cage._

Richard watches and on a level condones his own actions. The people he hurts, he _kills_! The suffering, the tears, all of it he accepts and justifies it. The people who couldn’t treat him like another human, the humanity that slaughters itself for its own gain! All of the pain, all of the suffering… He causes a little, yes, but he means to erase it all. Erase the humans; erase the pain, let true peace happen. That was the goal… a goal to escape his own pain. His own sadness.

All those years, stuck in those walls, under that grey ‘sky’ of oppression and fear… Richard feels like he had to pay back all of that. Killing Cedric for his father wasn’t enough! Sending Windor scrambling… nearly crushing Lhant under his heel, causing chaos and destruction in Fendel and Strahta… it wasn’t enough! What were a few days of fear and hopelessness to the _years_ he suffered? To the _decades_ , the _centuries_ that Lambda did? All of the pain, all of the sorrow…

It all came from humans. From people like him… he wanted to be human. Lambda wants to be human in a literal sense, so maybe he can rest. And Richard, he wants to feel like a human, like someone accepted, not to be revered or hunted down. Was it so bad, to want to feel human? To feel accepted, cared… for more than power, money, station?

But humans were cruel to their own. They’d never understand. At least Richard begins to think so. Lambda tells him, shares his pain. It’s a mutual pain, a mutual loneliness. Together, they can help each other. Make the world so much better…

He can’t feel himself, not without feeling Lambda. Ironic that he thought they could ease each other’s loneliness, only to feel even more alone in his own heart. In the corner of his mind, encased in the lead-colored box of cold, heartless stone Richard cries bitter, unhappy tears. And he wishes, he begs, for Asbel to save him.

_The sound of the guns of retribution_   
_And the singing voice of judgment and purification,_   
_Both resound loudly._   
_I am death, I am destruction, I am a curse, I am the bell that announces the end,_   
_And thus, a sinner that can never be forgiven._   


In the end Asbel saves him again. And in the end, Richard is left alive, facing what he had done. The horrors he caused, the catastrophes he inflicted on those who were not that much different from himself. He has to face those down, and the emotions raging in his own scarred heart are there to dog him every step. He walks on swords, but this time, he can’t run away from the pain. He must embrace it, because of what he had done.

Richard deserves the agony this time. So he carries it himself, holds it close to him to fill the void that Lambda had carved within him; something has to fill it and he wasn’t so selfish, not anymore, to ask Asbel to do so. He has no right.

Richard knows he doesn’t deserve someone like Asbel, like Sophie. Not as friends. Not as family. Even if he loves them so, loves them more. He knows he can’t get too close, because he wasn’t allowed. No, someone weak like him… weak and pathetic and _dirty_ shouldn’t be too close to sweet Sophie or selfless, strong Asbel. So the new King buries himself in his heart and his work and does the best he can to make up for what he did, but even Richard knows it’s futile to hope he ever could atone.

People praise him. People love him. They adore him and once more treat him as something better than human. A familiar ache, but Richard keeps it to himself because people like him? They aren’t allowed to be normal and human. Because people like him, when they are human, they are the worst part of humanity. So Richard alienates himself in ways that helped everyone and punished himself, because someone like him for what he had done have to pay the price somehow.

No one wanted to do it to him. So Richard has to do it himself.

_My hands are stained with blood._   
_Being this stained, I can't go back anywhere now._   


It was a destructive cycle really. Richard knows it is, always mentally beating himself up for the mistakes he made and hiding behind smiles, jokes and statements of double-meaning. But it was a slow destruction, and Richard was still fine, he could do this for years. He deserves it after all, but even when he doesn’t want it, Asbel sweeps in like the knight he is and rescues Richard all over again.

“You don’t have to apologize anymore.” Asbel says to him quietly as the two sit back to back, just a bit away from the others.

“Apologies do nothing,” Richard whispers. “I know. I’ll do more. I’ll do better…”

“No, Richard… that’s not what I mean.” At their sides, one of Asbel’s hands shift, covering Richard’s. “All that happened… it’s done.”

“But I must…”

“Don’t you see? You’re forgiven already. You need to forgive yourself…” Asbel’s hand grasps his, and finally Richard looks to it. “You’re human, Richard. Everyone makes mistakes… and the fact you want to make up for it, that you want to do better and that you _will_ … that’s enough.”

Richard wishes Asbel wouldn’t touch him like that, even if sometimes Richard finds himself hoping he will. Sometimes finds himself reaching for Asbel. His hands were so dirty, so stained, yet…

“Is it really, Asbel…?” Richard asks softly. “I may… never be able to make up for what I’ve done. How can I forgive myself for being so weak, to leading to so much chaos and sadness? For hurting you so badly?”

Asbel leans his head back a bit to rest against the back of Richard’s. Somehow that weight was comforting, unlike the rest of the weight on Richard’s shoulders. “Because I understand… cause I already forgive you. I’m just happy you’re back with me, Richard.”

“With you…?”

“Yeah. Even if we can’t hang out as much as we want… well, we’re under the same sky always. We’re closer than you think.” Asbel chuckles a little, and there was serenity there. One Richard feels very rarely and only here, when he was with Asbel.

“Closer… than I think.” Richard repeats, almost just breathing the words.

“I know you, Richard… you want to make Windor, the world, a better place. Maybe the methods you and Lambda tried weren’t right… but the intention is good. You can have that intention… and now you can go about doing it the right way. I know how much you love your country, the world, how you want to take care of it.” Richard doesn’t see it, but Asbel blushes a little. “You’re a good man, Richard. I know that, and you always will be. So, don’t beat yourself up anymore.”

Richard makes himself chuckle softly, leaning his own head back a bit against Asbel’s. “Says the one who beat himself up for how long about his own mistakes…?”

“Hey, I learned my lesson. That’s what gives me the right to lecture you.”

“Being lectured by _Asbel Lhant_. My, what have I come to?”

They share a soft chuckle together, and there’s a little less pressure on Richard’s heart. There’s still plenty more, of course, but being with Asbel like this… under that sky he thought he wasn’t allowed to behold often, he feels a little freer. Richard’s free hand raises up to reach over his shoulder to rest lightly on Asbel’s, and Asbel simply places his hand over it. Slowly their fingers entwine, the hold loose and not at all restricting. There was something about that sort of hold that makes Richard’s heart flutter a little. He was free to break away as he needs, but he was free to stay.

“Thank you, Asbel.” Richard whispers. “For everything.”

“Don’t have to thank me, Richard. I know.”

  
_“I know it perfectly: about how much you love this world.”_


End file.
